


private emotion

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-13
Updated: 2010-02-13
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12661554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Time doesn’t stop for anyone.





	private emotion

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

Even now, Kame twitches every time Jin gets on a plane. It’s like a reoccurring nightmare that plays over and over again, except that it’s in _front_ of his eyes and very real. Whether it’s L.A., Korea, or even Okinawa, no matter how long Jin’s hair is or what season it is, he still sees Jin’s inevitable departure, the first time he walked away from Kame and didn’t come back after a week or two. Kame thought he was never going to come back.

He remembers it like it was yesterday. It wasn’t the kind of airport chase scenes that are popular in media. The security line isn’t nearly as climatic as the actual gate and there wasn’t really any chasing involved, even if Kame was still out of breath from running through the parking lot and the lower level. Even if Kame’s regret had nothing to do with love, at least the romantic kind.

He wasn’t the official leader of KAT-TUN but he still felt an obligation to the group, to do his best and try to get along with the others despite their constant clash of personality. It’s the one thing that hasn’t changed in the four years since they debuted; it’s probably the only thing, at least when it comes to him and Jin. There were many times that he wanted to just up and leave, move back home and start over again, but his pride wouldn’t let him give up. If he quit, they would win. Jin would win.

Jin, who ended up leaving anyway. The irony is still bitter to this day. Nakamaru’s voice is remorseful in his head – “At least he told us” – and it angers Kame to think about, how none of the others appeared to care. Under the pretense of supporting him, making Kame out to be the bad guy when he voiced his opposition. To the other members, to Jin, to his mother, to anyone who would listen and not run to the media when he screamed himself hoarse with anger. Jin was selfish, Jin was taking everything for granted. Including his friends. Once upon a time, Jin and Kame had been friends.

He wasn’t sure when it changed; people grow up. Priorities change, time goes on and suddenly it’s been a year since they had a conversation that didn’t involve work. He wants to blame the industry but it’s _because_ of the industry that he even knows Jin; he wouldn’t be nearly as successful had he not decided to join Johnny’s, probably not nearly as happy. Sometimes he wonders if he would have been better off that way.

Jin, with his puffy un-styled hair and autumn hoodie, disguised rather poorly in Kame’s opinion but it’s not like he was much better, only a ski cap and a pair of sunglasses covering his hair and part of his face. The good thing about airports is that nobody really pays attention to anyone else; they’re all concerned with themselves and where they’re going. Kame was stopped short in the middle of the big main room and people just went around him, paying him no mind even though his gaze was locked on the one he would always recognize no matter the disguise, who was standing in line waiting to go through security. Staring at him like he would never see him again.

Yelling after him never crossed Kame’s mind. All it would have done was create unnecessary attention and embarrass them both. Kame was not a girl and he wasn’t in love with Jin; those were the two things he knew for sure. He didn’t want Jin to leave because he had responsibilities, dammit, people who depended on him to do his best for _all of them_. It’s not like they never got vacations, it’s not like they were banned from having overseas friends. Jin never came out and said so, but Kame knew that this hiatus was less about experiencing America and more about getting away from them. At least, he hadn’t refuted the accusation when Kame had thrown it in his face right before he stormed out of the room.

One thing that’s true about those movies is that the person doing the running is fueled purely by adrenaline and doesn’t know why they’re doing it. Yamapi had texted him when they were on their way to the airport and the next minute Kame was in his car, driving calmly and lawfully if not several miles over the speed limit. He’d taken the first parking spot he found, never mind the higher hourly rate, and forewent the elevator in favor of the stairs because right then he felt like he could run faster than anything.

Which brought him to that moment, watching Jin stand in line with the other passengers en route to their flights. He could have walked up and conspicuously tapped him on the shoulder, maybe sent him a text telling him to turn around, thrown a rock at his head – anything to get his attention. Not to keep him from going, not to make him feel even worse about it, but to tell him to have fun and, most importantly, _come back safe_. The proper good-bye he hadn’t yet given because he was too busy being jealous and resentful.

Except when Jin stepped through the metal detector, put his shoes back on, and disappeared out of sight, the only words on the tip of Kame’s tongue were _I’m sorry_.

This past summer, Jin made a comment during a concert MC that had Kame’s blood running cold. It’s hard to forget the past even when it’s long since over, years after Jin returned and made it up to them by working twice as hard. They still weren’t exactly friends but they don’t have to be; he already saw Jin more than his real friends and family combined, regardless of whether it’s work or pleasure. The best part about his job is that he gets to have both at the same time.

“Yabuki wasn’t in the movie because he was in L.A.,” Jin said clearly, a hint of amusement to his voice. He’s kidding, everyone knows he’s kidding, even if Kame’s glad he’s perfected his poker face. “When he left, Odagiri chased him through Narita screaming ‘Wait~’.”

Kame laughed with the others, but later he had to stop himself from cornering Jin in the dressing room and demanding what that had been about. He’d reached the point where he didn’t care enough to fight anymore, just expressed his views in hopes that they would be considered. But this wasn’t about song formations or solos; it was about him and Jin and whatever _hasn’t_ been going on between them since before they debuted.

_You saw me, didn’t you_ , Kame repeated over and over in his head as he glared at Jin out of the corner of his eye. Three years prior Jin might have noticed and called him on it, but the Jin of last summer just offered a mechanical “good show” and left. Same shit, different era, even if this time Kame isn’t as quick to admit defeat because _then why did you keep going?_

Now it’s like a curse that haunts him, particularly with such a long break between group activities where he _didn’t_ see everyone every day and had no idea what they were doing in their private time. They had no reason to give him their schedules and he had no right to ask for them, even if he knew Jin’s better than anyone else’s. Bandage promotions, Lands album, then back to KAT-TUN and their double single, finally working together again after nearly six months. They would never say things like “I missed you” (well, maybe Koki would, but he’d be mostly mocking) but Kame could see it on all of their faces and hear it in their voices as they caught up, their longest time apart since they were formed. Not counting Jin’s hiatus. That doesn’t matter anymore.

Kame goes to Jin’s concert but doesn’t tell him, doesn’t tell anyone even though he wants to make fun of him for the western-style music and humping dances. It’s not his preferred style, but Jin is enjoying himself and it shows in his performance, which makes it the best one Kame seen in years. Jin being happy is such a rarity lately that it doesn’t matter _what_ it is as long as Jin’s smiling and having fun. If Kame has learned anything in the past four years, it’s that he just wants Jin to be happy doing what he loves. Even if Kame can no longer directly contribute to it.

He supposes that solo concerts are much like musical runs, too many shows in too few days, and when it’s over all you want to do is sleep for a year and eat whatever you can reach without moving. The producers of their show think that this is a perfect time to send them to Hokkaido, which seems to Kame like a blessing in disguise despite the low temperatures and abundance of snow. He almost wishes that Jin would whine about it for some sense of normalcy (or nostalgia, as it were), but all he does is nod and promise to do his best despite looking completely exhausted.

It’s four a.m. when they all trudge through the airport, breezing through security and tripping over their shoes because none of them are properly awake. Kame blames the early hour, his lack of coffee, the way Jin didn’t do his hair and has his hoodie pulled up, not the same one but close enough to trigger that old memory hard enough for him to stop in his tracks. The other times, all of the previous concert tours and location filmings, Kame had purposely walked ahead, which wasn’t uncommon being as he was usually the earliest and the most impatient.

Now he watches Jin walk away from him again with his own eyes, looking up from where he’s knelt down tying his shoes as Jin follows the others around the corner, bringing up the rear as they head down the corridor towards their gate. It’s worse than just a twitch, the metaphorical hand twisting his heart in recognition of his feelings back then, now up close and personal and causing every sense of uncertainty he’d had on that day over two years ago to flood his brain. He knows it’s not real and they’ll be leaving on the same plane soon, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s reliving his worst memory. It still hurts from the first time.

He’s so lost in his own mind that he almost doesn’t notice Jin’s hesitation, his palm flat on the wall like it’s holding him up as he looks over his shoulder and regards Kame with a blank expression. Jin’s attentiveness is usually questionable even while awake, but right now Kame thinks that Jin can see right through him and it makes him feel very exposed.

“Don’t you remember?” Jin asks, his voice low and groggy with sleep, and it isn’t until Kame catches him nodding towards the ground that he realizes Jin is probably referring to his shoelaces.

Kame narrows his eyes and pointedly finishes his ties, then stands up and stares hard at the other. “I’ll never forget,” he says firmly.

Jin just scoffs and remains still, waiting for Kame to catch up before falling into step with him.

This time they turn the corner together.


End file.
